


A Newlywed Valentine's Day

by merry_amelie



Series: Academic Arcadia [68]
Category: Star Wars Episode I: The Phantom Menace
Genre: Alternate Reality, M/M, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2006-02-15
Updated: 2006-02-15
Packaged: 2018-02-06 04:01:58
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,530
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1843597
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/merry_amelie/pseuds/merry_amelie
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>No more hiding...</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Newlywed Valentine's Day

**Author's Note:**

> Feedback: Is treasured at merryamelie@aol.com (or leave a comment).
> 
> Disclaimer: Mr. Lucas owns everything Star Wars. I'm not making any money.
> 
> To Alex, Ula, and Nerowill, my friends and betas extraordinaire.

The professors' first Valentine's Day as newlyweds was their most satisfying one yet.

Neither Jo and Keith nor Kathy and Monty asked the men to dine with them this year. Knowing it was now unnecessary, they happily made their own plans.

No longer did Quinn and Ian have to limit themselves to little out-of-the-way places far from Luke if they wanted a romantic dinner. In fact, one of their favorites, Bespina's, was a lovely Italian restaurant just a few minutes away from their new home. They had been there on a couple of Saturday nights, and liked its pleasant blend of families and dating couples of all types.

Since Valentine's Day fell on a weeknight again this year, they'd made reservations for 9, giving them time to finish their work for the next day before their meal.

Fresh from a shared shower, Ian started to put on the blue suit he'd worn for their rehearsal dinner in Windover, Quinn his chocolate brown one.

Just as they were ready for their jackets, Quinn rested a hand on Ian's arm. "Don't you want your gift, lad?"

Eyes lighting up like a birthday cake, Ian stopped in his tracks. "I'd love it."

Quinn opened his sweater drawer and took out a package in royal blue wrapping paper. He handed it to Ian with a smile.

Ian knew books when he hefted them. He tore off the paper, to find Lattimore's translations of The Iliad and The Odyssey. He already had the Rouse versions, but would enjoy comparing their work. "Thanks! You always know just what to get me." He gave Quinn a kiss which needed no translation, and relaxed in his arms for a delicious moment.

Ian had been planning to give Quinn his present when they returned, but decided not to keep him waiting. He went to the closet and stretched up to the top shelf, chuckling at the absurdity of trying to hide something from his tall husband up there. Luckily, Quinn wasn't the type who foraged for gifts before holidays.

Ian heard the low whistle from behind him and flushed with pleasure. His dress shirt had hiked up, revealing a tantalizing bit of creamy skin to Quinn's avid gaze.

Quinn walked over to the closet and eased his hand under the untucked shirt. "Mmmm. Now this is what I call a present."

"Present, past, and future, love," Ian said with a crooked grin. He turned in Quinn's arms for the kiss he knew was waiting for him, tucking a small box into Quinn's hand.

Quinn opened it to find a silver belt buckle in a Celtic knot design. "Splendid, lad. Thank you."

Ian slipped the old one off and slid on his gift, making sure to brush his husband's waist seductively in the process. "I'm looking forward to undoing that tonight," Ian breathed against Quinn's collar.

"So am I," Quinn said, voice low. He kissed Ian, more in thanks for the night to come than for his present.

"We'd better get going. You do realize that you're ten seconds away from being wrestled to the sheets." Ian grinned over at the bed meaningfully.

"And that's supposed to rush me out the door?" Quinn's eyes twinkled as he picked up Ian's jacket. "Your choice, Ian."

Sighing, Ian tucked his shirt in and let Quinn put the jacket on him, then returned the favor for his husband.

The men decided to take the Audi since the stick shift of the THX tended to block their wandering hands, a bit more adventurous on the holiday. Fortunately, they didn't have time to get up to much mischief in the five minutes it took them to reach the restaurant.

Bespina's was packed with couples at every table and booth, with the overflow waiting in the bar with their aperitifs. Even though they had reservations, the men still had to wait twenty minutes. Hard cider from a local farm made it worthwhile.

When their beeper went off, they were ushered to a non-smoking booth in the left corner. Upholstered in earth tones, it was a mellow place to settle in for the next couple of hours.

The server took their order of two glasses of Barolo wine, and brought olive oil and focaccia to the table with their water.

The men mulled over the extensive menu replete with holiday specials, finally choosing lobster raviolini in a marsala reduction. Then they just relaxed into the cushions and gazed at each other with satisfaction.

"Feels like a mini-vacation." Quinn sipped his wine.

"Sure does. We don't have to be at Taton until 2 tomorrow."

It was a holiday indeed, their first proper Valentine's Day, and they were dining in a fine restaurant, obviously a couple like the others there. Hard to believe after all their clever chameleon maneuvers through the years. Those skills would no longer need to be used, except with the Mastersons.

But Quinn's parents were the last thing on their minds during their celebration, as were Ian's. They concentrated on one another instead.

Their appetizers came, tuna-stuffed green and black olives. High-level trading ensued, as Ian forked over his green olives, Quinn his black.

Quinn asked, "Did you remember to set the tape for skating?"

"Mmm-hmm. Let's watch it tomorrow, though." Ian's grin left no doubt of what he planned on doing instead.

Quinn's matching smile told Ian that they had the same plans. "Plushenko's all but unbeatable."

"Weir has an outside shot at it, especially if he throws in a quad." Ian twirled his toothpick.

"If he's lucky, he'll go after Plushenko in the final. Then he can see what he needs to do." Quinn speared an olive with gusto.

Ian asked, "How 'bout going skating again? There's a rink on the way to Borders."

"Sounds good. I'm free Saturday afternoon."

Their entrees arrived, shifting their attention for a few moments. The food was delicious; the lobster filling was blended with melted asiago cheese, making for an even better taste.

Ian said, "My first midterm's tomorrow. I ought to be ready to leave by 6."

"Suits me fine. I've got more of those Symonds letters to go through at the library. Let's meet at the office." Quinn dragged a raviolini through the sauce.

"They're letting you copy them, right?" Ian asked.

"Actually, the research librarian insists on doing it herself. Claims the latex gloves will never fit me."

The men chuckled at this, knowing she had a good point.

"So it's hands-off for you, I take it?" Ian just couldn't resist.

Dropping his voice, Quinn said, "Only until we get home, lad."

Ian's eyes widened. "I'll be sure to 'buckle' down then."

Ian was clearly in the groove. A week before their wedding, on the way home from New York City by bus, Ian had entertained Quinn with a steady series of puns lasting the whole ride through. Quinn had been both impressed and shell-shocked since the commute was an hour long. If he didn't do something fast, Ian seemed poised to repeat that feat now.

Quinn speared a piece of asparagus on Ian's plate. "May I?" he asked.

"Of course." Ian chuckled at the transparent attempt to rein in his puns, and accepted the misdirection gracefully. "Take as much as you like. I want to save room for dessert."

Since asparagus actually was a favorite of Quinn's, this worked out just fine. They were finishing up when the waiter came by with dessert menus.

Ian said, "Gotta get the Amaretto gelato for two."

"Let's go for it." Quinn grinned in anticipation.

Their gelato came dotted with mascarpone and raspberries. The polite distance they'd kept for their chocolate mousse at the diner was but a memory that night. Their spoons were so close that they tapped occasionally, evoking a grin each time.

When they were ready to go, the men held their topcoats for one another without even thinking twice. Ian had grudgingly let the Audi be valet-parked, reluctant to entrust his Gallia to anyone but Quinn.

During the drive home, their thoughts were fixed on the real Valentine's Day celebration yet to come. They broke an Olympic record on the way to the bedroom, another when they whipped each other's coats and jackets off.

True to his word, Ian undid Quinn's buckle, his husband's knees all but buckling under him as he braced against the side of the bed. Dropping to his knees on the carpet, Ian pulled down the dress slacks and boxer briefs underneath. He felt big hands settle on his shoulders and smiled up at Quinn. Ian took him into his mouth, lavishing him with every lick and suckle he knew would drive Quinn wild. Their moans filled the room, sweeter than any love song. The gelato had left Ian's mouth slightly cool, giving Quinn an additional treat. Quinn couldn't withstand Ian's virtuoso performance for long, especially not the final impish flick of his tongue.

Dimly feeling Ian cleaning him tenderly, Quinn pulled him up for a kiss far more delicious than their meal. He felt damp cloth against his inner right thigh, and stripped Ian's pants off, ready to sample his own after-dinner drink.

Valentine's Day wasn't over yet. 


End file.
